


Regarding Rings

by Bisexualtrashlord



Category: Black Sails
Genre: A brief flashback, Allusions to Marriage, Fluff, M/M, Mushy gushy love, Post-show spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-07
Packaged: 2019-03-01 21:33:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13303689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bisexualtrashlord/pseuds/Bisexualtrashlord
Summary: Who knew a simple, silver band can hold so much weight to it? An examination on the origin of one of the rings on Flint's hands.





	Regarding Rings

**Author's Note:**

> Hi gang. You can't tell me one of those rings Flint wears didn't come from Thomas. Here's how I think it happened! Enjoy!

James did not have many keepsakes.

Being the captain of a ship, one rarely had time to worry about a host of possessions that might be important to him. At the most, he had about four things that mattered most to him: his copies of _Don Quixote_ , _La Galatea,_ and _Meditations_ , and a teacup Miranda let him take when the _Walrus_ was docked one day. These were small in size, could easily fit into a bag to carry along one went should the need for a getaway arise. Though they were small, they held a weight so heavy James sometimes felt overwhelmed by their presence. At night, when all were asleep but his thoughts kept him wide awake, his gaze would drift to the bookshelf, eyes homing in on the two titles instantly. He would be brought back to the stately room of a Lord and Lady that echoed with laughter and heated analysis of Quixote and his companion Panza as they traveled along the windmill laden landscapes of Spain. James would remember the way Miranda’s eyes widen with delight at his (sorry) attempts at reading in different voices, or the way Thomas’s brows would arch at a thoughtful addition to their discussion of what the windmills might symbolize.

Then with a loud creak from the ship or an especially loud yelp from someone on deck, James would be ripped out of his memory, and find himself once again in the rocking cabin of his ship.

James’s eyes drift toward the teacup; small white and blue thing that was chipped at the corner when rough sea toppled it over. Thankfully, James was quick to catch it before it led to being broken beyond repair. A small, tangible reminder that James had someone to return to in Nassau, to fight for; to remind him that though… _He_ was gone, Miranda was still alive and well. He does not want to think to long on the fact that, even ten years later, he cannot bring himself to even think of Thomas’s name, the pain being too much to bear.

There was something else of value to him, something far more reaching than the books or the cup.

His gaze would move downward, to his right hand that housed his rings. He gathered up more extravagant ones in the decade of piracy, but the one that was most important to him was the simplest of them all. With a shaking hand, he slipped it off, the simple silver band. No engravings, no jewels, nothing. James thought it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. He will never forget when he received it.

**oOo**

_It was a warm spring day, one London hasn’t seen in a long while. The sun decided to make an appearance longer than five minutes today, and the weather decided to stay above brisk for once. Thomas insisted that they take advantage of the day, closing away his books and notes and asking James if he wanted to stroll in his garden. After being assured that no servants would be around today, he said yes._

_Which led James outside to the Hamilton gardens, a wide expanse of flowers of all sizes and colors, alighting James’s senses. The sweet smell of the flowers and trees wrapped around his nostrils while his eyes were greeted with color after color and plant after plant. Birds sung high songs welcoming the first real day of the new season. The two men wore nothing formal on them this afternoon, forgoing regalia and navy uniform for their simple white linen shirts, and their trousers, allowing the sun to grace more of their skin than just their faces._

_“This means you’ll get more freckles,” Thomas said, delighted._

_“More to count, more work for you,” said James with a smirk._

_“No, it’s never work. It’s only a joy,” Thomas said softly. James didn’t bother ducking to hide his flushed face._

_They walked in a comfortable silence for a little while after that, being content to listen to the birds and the light babble of the fountain in the middle as they walked. They walked shoulder to shoulder, bodies brushing against each other with each footfall, a quiet reminder of the other one’s presence. James can’t remember the last time he felt so peaceful._

_They stopped at the gazebo that was at the end of the garden trail, taking a seat inside of it. James marveled at the roses that looped and wrapped around the pillars, pink and peach and red and some yellow for good measure. He inhaled deep, letting the smell of the flowers calm him even more._

_“Pan himself couldn’t imagine a more beautiful place,” commented James softly._

_“I think he would find this a little too restricting, I imagine he hates fences,” replied Thomas with a smirk._

_James huffed a laugh, “Be that as it may, he would marvel your design of your garden, it’s remarkable.”_

_Thomas filled the little distance between them, gently taking James’s hand. “I can think of someone else that’s more remarkable,” he murmured, gazing into the other man’s eyes. James grew a small smile._

_Thomas’s gaze faltered slightly, eyes becoming shifty._

_“What is it?” asked James._

_“I…I uh, I have something for you. You might find it a bit odd,” Thomas stammered, lost for words at a rare moment. James said nothing, letting Thomas explain._

_“I…I can’t explain how happy I am that we are together, first as partners, and friends, and now…this. I find myself thinking that I am in a dream, and it is the happiest dream I’ve ever had, one I never want to wake up from. You…James you inspire me, challenge me, care for me…love me,” choked Thomas._

_“I do,” James said firmly, without hesitation._

_“And I still can’t believe that this is real, but I am grateful each day I wake up, because I remember that you’re in my life, and that we are together. I love you, James McGraw. So…um…” Thomas sniffled as he dug in his pocket, rifling for something._

_James’s heart leapt into his throat when he saw what Thomas was looking for. A ring. A silver ring that was smooth on all sides._

_“Thomas…we…we can’t…” James began, voice thick with emotion._

_Thomas nodded, “I know, I know. But think of it as a promise. A promise that no matter where I may go, how far we drift from each other, that we’re still together, and nothing will change that,” Thomas croaked, blue eyes filling with unshed tears._

_“Yes…yes Thomas. Yes,” breathed James, though shaky, feeling his own eyes sting. Thomas blinked, letting the tears fall freely down his face while he put the ring on James’s right hand. Both men heaved a sobbing laugh when the ring was fully on James’s finger._

_“It’s perfect…I wish…I wish I had something to give you,” choked James. Thomas shook his head and reached out to take James’s face in his hands, bringing their foreheads together._

_“Taking the ring and being here is all I’ll ever need,” Thomas whispered, pressing their lips together. James’s hand reached the back of Thomas’s head, a chill running through him as he felt the contrast of cool metal against warm hair._

**oOo**

It was a miracle. It was a dream. It must have been.

But no. Thomas was here; he was here and he was _alive_. He held James tight in his arms, holding him up while he ran his hands through the short, fuzzy hair, and blessed his lips with a kiss. James’s tears began anew when he felt the familiar contrast of the metal ring slide through Thomas’s hair, longer and warmer from the Savannah sun.

They were alone now, away from Oglethorpe and the others in Thomas’s hut lying on his bed, relearning each other’s bodies. Thomas’s was weather worn and hardened from working, hands and arms stronger. James was fixated on his new beard, wondering when it began to sprout. Thomas ran his hands over James’s scars, stopping in his tracks when he meant to trail the ones over his hands. He saw the ring.

“You kept it? After all this time?” Thomas whispered, voice thick.

“It was the only thing I had left of you. If I had lost it…I don’t know what I would have done,” James mumbled, thoughts beginning to turn dark once again.

Thomas reached across the little distance between their bodies, cupping James’s cheek.

“The ring led you back to me, we are together again,” breathed Thomas, running his thumb along the cheek.

James nodded, “We are, we _are._ You’re here, you’re _here…_ I—I can’t, I can’t,” James stammered, feeling tears well up again.

“Oh, James,” choked Thomas. He took James’s hand in his own, kissing each of the knuckles, giving extra attention to the finger that housed the ring.

“We will never be apart again, James. We have our whole lives together now, and we will live it however we choose. I fear nothing when you are by my side.”

“I love you, Thomas,” murmured James, still in disbelief that he Can say those words aloud now.

“I love you too, James,” Thomas replied, planting kisses on his hands once again. Those kisses were like a silent prayer, a deep reverence and seal keeping the two together forever. Those kisses weren’t just examples of love, but a pact, an affirmation.

A promise.


End file.
